


Beneath the Mask

by slothinsocks



Series: Beneath the Mask [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Kylo Ren Has Issues, Slow Burn, Virgin Kylo Ren
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:15:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24099454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slothinsocks/pseuds/slothinsocks
Summary: When Armitage Hux's sister, Myssandra, finds herself in the midst of the First Order's rise to power within the galaxy, she finds herself captivated by its leader, Kylo Ren. Her curiosity soon turns to sympathy, tenderness. Kylo Ren finds himself bewildered and captivated by a girl who sees more than just the monster.
Relationships: Ben Solo | Kylo Ren/Original Female Character(s), Kylo Ren/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Beneath the Mask [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1738774
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	Beneath the Mask

It had been months since Myssa’s arrival on The Finalizer. The massive star destroyer served as the central hub for many of the First Order’s activities, aside from Starkiller Base, and she was thrust into the center of it all. She was a tactful advisor, though nervous and often in the shadow of her brother, General Armitage Hux. He was far more bloodthirsty than she, a force to be reckoned with. His aggression had grown since her arrival, however. Hux was never talented at subtlety -- he didn’t want his sister interfering with his plans.

There was only one thing Armitage despised more than his sister, and that was Kylo Ren, his superior. The famed protege of Supreme Leader Snoke, Hux knew that without Kylo, he’d be able to assume a higher ranking. Perhaps it was the petty venom of a subordinate and overseer, but Hux never liked the anguished, bratty boy. He was no leader.

Myssa knew her brother never liked her. They had been at-odds, and it had only gotten worse with her acting as an advisor on behalf of the First Order. She’d honed her talents for diplomacy, but never anything as harsh as war -- a war she barely agreed with, anyway.

“Sir,” Captain Phasma’s voice rang out through her chromium helmet, the massive Stormtrooper standing beside both Myssa and Armitage, hovering behind the pair. “Kylo Ren has just returned from his extraction. Shall we wait to discuss further tactics?”

“No. You can brief him later. Time is of the essence,” He sighed, steely eyes flickering to Myssa. She seemed completely aware of his apathetic stare, electing to ignore it. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” He uttered, quirking an eyebrow. 

Myssa was well-aware he’d wanted her gone, though she was a tactical advisor, after all. What else had she been brought here for? Show? The redheaded woman stared at her brother, the tension of aggression beginning to crackle between them. It was mostly from Armitage, however. “Where else am I supposed to go? I am an advisor, after all.” 

He didn’t like that answer. Phasma looked stoic, though her position shifted away from them, as if electing to not get involved in their arguments, which happened often. Then again, it was mostly scathing anger from the General. The Captain never interjected -- it wasn’t her place to do so. It was ambiguous whether or not the Captain agreed with the General on his ‘behavior’. Not a single soul would ever know the truth.

“You are no advisor,” Hux spat, his words poisonous. “You are lucky, and if I had it my way, you wouldn’t be here.” He uttered, his gaze that of mild disgust. “You wouldn’t be alive.” The General was close to a physical altercation, his rage spilling over so freely. 

Myssa winced, his words having stung, though it wasn’t unfamiliar to her. Armitage had always been envious of her -- she was born true to the name, and her brother was a bastard child. It was an animosity that was never her fault, he just resented her for stealing what was rightfully his. Her cerulean eyes drifted to his clenched fist, her jaw beginning to tense. Tears pricked her eyes, yet she wouldn’t dare shed one now, not in front of her brother, and especially not in front of the entire bridge, including Captain Phasma.

“General Hux,” Kylo Ren’s voice thundered from the bridge’s doors, snapping open with a soft hiss. Clad in garbs of black, the massive man had made the general vicinity go completely silent. Captain Phasma turned, standing at attention for her superior. He moved with a bridled rage, fists clenched together, hood pulled up over the mask he wore. His presence demanded fear, he oozed intimidation.

To Myssa, however, he was mysterious. An enigma. They’d had a handful of interactions before, none of them polite, yet none so volatile as those she often exchanged with her brother. He was something else. A man, perhaps? A monster? No, he certainly wasn’t that. Myssa had been fascinated with him the day she’d arrived. She was a little frightened, though there was something beneath that mask. She yearned to know, deep down inside.

“Ren.” Hux uttered, his stance becoming rigid as ever. He was furious, now -- it was beginning to spill over, yet the General did his best to compose himself in front of the entire bridge. As Kylo Ren approached, footsteps heavy, he stopped directly in front of Armitage, pointing a finger into his face.

“You threaten one of my advisors,” Kylo’s head had turned to Myssa, the smaller woman not trembling beneath his hidden gaze. Instead, she’d almost looked thankful. The sight alone intrigued Ren, but not enough for him to care. “An asset to the First Order.” 

“Merely acting on your behalf, Lord Ren.” Hux knew it was the wrong choice of words as soon as they escaped his lips. It was a terrible thing to say, and Kylo’s head had snapped from Myssa to Armitage, almost enraged. 

“You do not act on my behalf.” He nearly snarled, shoving him aside with a stiff push. “The next time you begin to conduct a meeting without me, will be the last time you conduct a meeting at all.” Kylo seemed serious, his threats brought with a harsh tone. “If I hear another threat against my advisor, I’ll have the Captain correct you.” Phasma wasn’t one to disobey Ren, and she’d nodded at the man with such loyalty.

Hux’s face burned scarlet, frustrated as ever. Myssa was biting back the tiniest smile, thankful to have Kylo Ren scorn her brother for his misguidance. It was one of the first times Armitage had been metaphorically slapped in the face like this, and she only hoped it would stick, this time. Her brother was never kind, and Kylo had saved her from a potential backhand, whether he knew it or not.

“Thank you, Lord Ren.” Myssa’s voice was above a whisper, her eyes glued to the front of his helmet -- where his gaze would’ve been, if he kept the helmet off. It didn’t waver, something that surprised Kylo yet again.

He said nothing, merely appraised her through the silvery slats in his helmet. Kylo had seen Myssa many times around the vessel, typically by herself. He never followed her, though observed from a distance. She was too curious for her own good, and of the many interactions he’d had with her, she wanted to know more about him. He could sense this burning desire from her, an inquisitive nature that might be his downfall. As much as he despised her brother, Kylo kept himself guarded from her.

Kylo departed, his interest pulled elsewhere. The silence that had covered the bridge soon melted away the moment he’d slipped through the set of metal doors. Chatter returned, slowly but surely, and Myssa had opted to go after him. Her mind was racing, swimming with a hundred different questions, and it gave her a proper excuse to be away from her brother.

The man’s footsteps were heavy enough for Myssa to follow him, scrambling to try and keep up. He was massive, his strides much farther than her own. Down every twist and turn of the Finalizer’s corridor, she couldn’t seem to find him after some time. Noises of marching Stormtroopers and whirring machines had echoed throughout the hallways, and she’d ended up in the center, stopping within her tracks. There were four ways to go … Perhaps she’d lost him.

“What are you doing?” He’d scared her, Kylo watching as she visibly jumped. He detected nervousness welling within her the moment he’d so suddenly appeared. His voice had felt icy, like a clap of thunder reverberating throughout the corridor. 

“I -- I’m sorry,” Myssa stammered, caught completely by surprise. Kylo loomed over her like a dark shadow, cast against the walls behind her. He wore his woven cloak, hood pulled down this time. It made him look bigger than before, arms remaining at his sides. “I just wanted to thank you.” She gulped, voice barely above a whisper. 

Kylo was taken aback, confused and bewildered by her behavior. It was strange, foreign -- he was lucky he kept on the mask. His brows were drawn together, gaze narrowed in her direction. Even Myssa could feel it piercing through his helmet. “What for?” He quipped, his baritone bouncing off of the walls. Any Stormtrooper in the general area made it a point to steer clear from the hallway they stood within.

“Stopping him before …” Myssa trailed off, averting her gaze toward the dark flooring, seeing her own teary-eyed reflection staring up at her. “Before he had an outburst.” It wasn’t what she wanted to say, and Kylo noticed her hesitation to reveal the truth. He had an inkling that their relationship was a turbulent one. 

“The General must remember his place,” Kylo hesitated, choosing his words carefully. He did not want to show blatant favoritism or weakness, as he knew General Hux would make it a point to mock him behind his back if it showed. “Just like you.” His voice had become as hard as Beskar steel, deep and tempered.

A silence hung between them, and time had almost stood still. Kylo was prepared to leave her there with that lasting comment. However, Myssa could not let it end on such a note. 

“How do you sleep in that helmet?” A sudden shifting of the subject, her peculiar question had almost infuriated Kylo. Why did she care to know him, care about his antics? Her curiosity made his blood boil. She had no right to ask questions like that. 

“Why does it matter to you?” He snapped, his voice becoming as cold as ice, the edge enhanced by the voice modulator within his helmet. Kylo had brazenly stepped closer, almost as if he were accusing her of something. He saw her stand still, not flinching away when he’d dared to step in. 

“I … I was curious, is all.” Myssa noticed how hostile he seemed, how defensive he was at her prodding. He clearly wasn’t accustomed to being asked such things, and it’d made him upset. “It matters a great deal to me, actually.” She’d quipped, auburn eyebrows knitting together.

Kylo grit his teeth together, vastly confused by her words. “You are curious?” What simple girl was curious about him? Yet, it made him reflect on the times he’d observed her before -- reading near a window, conversing with an Officer, or staring at him from across the way. Wasn’t he curious about her? His anguish and rage continued to grow, bubbling just underneath the surface. He had no reason to observe her. Why did he? “It shouldn’t matter. What do you think I am?”

The younger woman looked a little wary, though his own reaction had caused her to lean closer. Kylo, of course, instinctually tilted away from her. It was almost as if she were trying to peer beyond the mask. “Yes,” She murmured, teeth skimming across her lower lip. “You wear a mask, a cloak, you hide yourself.” Her tone was strangely affectionate, something Kylo hadn’t heard in a long time. “Wouldn’t anyone want to know the man that lies beneath?”

Her assumption that he purposefully hid himself away angered him. “You know nothing about me,” Kylo nearly snarled, hovering over her, almost hunched as to not scare her completely. “It is best if it stays that way.” They were close together, now. Myssa’s back was to a wall, yet there was enough space there. She wasn’t cornered.

Myssa’s hand had absentmindedly moved to his arm, her touch surprisingly tender. It was as if someone had burned Kylo, he reacted rather violently the moment she’d linger against his forearm. Even though she looked surprised by her actions, cerulean hues were as wide as could be as he jerked away, ripping from her within an instant.

“Never do that again!” Kylo bellowed, and with a snap of his cape, he’d disappeared down one of the numerous corridors. He was practically fleeing from the scene, his head spinning. What had just happened? She’d so recklessly touched him as if she knew exactly who he was. Such a thought had scared Kylo, and so, he retreated to the one place he’d always find guidance in. 

Passing a set of armored doors into a restricted corridor, Kylo Ren stalked past yet another small door, finding the pedestal where a strange relic sat, almost as if it were waiting for his return.

He’d nearly collapsed upon it, hands gripping the sides with an iron grasp unlike any other. Kylo felt turmoil and torment deep within. He needed guidance. His confusion had begun to cloud his judgment, and her curiosity had started to burn through him. 

Myssa had clearly awakened something inside of him. Forlorn feelings, buried away for such a long time. Things he hadn’t felt in many years. This disturbance had put him off, worried that he’d face a setback. He couldn’t, not now, not when Snoke relied upon him so heavily. He needed to wash the girl from his mind. 

“Show me, grandfather.” Kylo uttered, facing the relic buried within a pit of ash. 

And so he did.

/ ------ /

She was restless.

Myssa rolled over within her bed, clutching haplessly at the pillow. As an advisor, she’d received one of the more luxurious suites upon The Finalizer, but no amount of comfort could make up for what happened earlier that day. 

Touching Kylo like that was a mistake, but her burning ache to know who he really was beneath the mask had only grown stronger. There was something within him, something not so dark — she knew it. He never tried to intentionally frighten her when he could have, Myssa realized. 

Tossing once again, she faced the doorway of her chambers, illuminated on either side by softer lights. Her mind had contemplated many things, but one thing was absolutely certain. She wanted to see him. 

Myssa finally sat upright, hand placed against the soft, silken sheets. She thrust the blanket away, clad within her nightgown. Retrieving the robe that was draped over the foot of her bed, she shrugged it on over her shoulders. Not bothering to correct her disheveled, auburn hair, she pushed a panel upon the side of the wall. The door slid open.

Her bare feet hit the cold, smooth ground. It sent a chill or two up her spine, but that certainly didn’t stop her.  
Most activity was slowed when The Finalizer settled for curfew, which gave her time to figure out where Kylo’s corridor was.

Hugging her dark robe around her body, she stepped past many doors, finding herself at the apexis of multiple hallways. Yet, one of them seemed smaller than the rest, closely guarded … Not currently, at least. Armored doors remained shut.

Gulping thickly, she began wandering down that particular hallway, and the doors had automatically opened for her as she stood before them. This winding corridor was darker then the rest, eerily silent. At the end, there was a large chamber, two doors opposite of one another.

It was a daring yet eerie experience, and instead of heading to the door on the right, she instead wandered to the one on the left. It slipped open with a loud hiss, harmless steam emerging from ceiling panels.

Myssa hesitantly stepped inside, noticing the pedestal at the far side of the room. It was elevated, and there seemed to be an object inside. In front of this pedestal was a large, leather seat, ridged in design. On the left, there was a lower platform with hot ashes contained in a shallow basin.

She hadn’t a clue of what was sitting on that pedestal. It almost frightened her to know the truth, and once she was close enough, she saw the charred, deteriorated helmet of a Sith Lord. Yet, it wasn’t just any Sith Lord. 

It was that of Darth Vader.

The helmet was sitting in the same pile of ash, facing her. Myssa could almost hear memories, lamenting from the helmet. Her father told her the story of Darth Vader many times, and seeing the infamous helmet for herself was almost a little strange.

She reached out, her fingertips grazing the cold surface of the helmet, just underneath the eye. It was as fascinating as it was macabre, and before Myssa could try and touch it any further, a familiar voice cut through the darkness.

“What are you doing here?” Kylo was yelling, his voice instantaneously hostile. He charged toward her, scaring her half to death as she scrambled around the pedestal, hovered against the wall. He lacked the cloak now, backing her against the wall with an unbridled fury. “How dare you touch it? Do you know what could’ve happened?” He roared.

Myssa looked rather startled, pressed against the wall. She began to cry almost immediately, not expecting him to show up in the way that he did. “I — I …” She couldn’t even speak. “I’m sorry. I was looking for you.” She breathed. 

Kylo saw her tears, recoiling from her in anger, both at her and at himself. He immediately went to inspect the helmet for damages, finding nothing upon his grandfather’s helm. There was nothing — it remained as still as it was before. Hunching over the pedestal, his head turned towards her. “Me?”

“Yes,” She breathed, her visage beginning to soften. She thought he was going to hurt her, but it was quite the opposite. 

“You shouldn’t seek me out.” Kylo replied, holding tightly near where Vader’s helmet sat. His posture resembled one of reproach, though whatever he felt, it was usually all directed inward. He wasn’t furious at her — he was angry for her need to know more about him. His tone was tempered, though almost showed subtle signs of nervousness. 

She was shaking, tears streaming down her cheeks. It was mostly from the shock of being caught, and they came and went swiftly. Myssa realized how quickly his fury subsided, and she finally leaned off of the wall, watching him closely. “It’s best if I do not know,” She repeated his words from earlier, and this time, she was the one to come closer. “And yet I want to know.” Myssa hesitated. “Why do you wear the mask?” She asked softly.

Kylo didn’t know what to do, for the first time in his life. This girl had made him so confused, so bewildered whenever she spoke. He straightened immediately, watching her come closer. “For my own protection.” A lie, a silly lie that he knew she’d see right through.

“No,” She whispered, her eyes compassionate. It had been so long since Kylo had been looked at in the way she looked at him. He did nothing to deserve this, yet she continued to break down his barriers. The truth was so close, nearly within reach.

“What do you think you’ll see?” Kylo murmured, breath nearly hitching within his throat with how close she’d become. He felt one of her hands grasp the side of his helmet. This worried him, yet he felt himself surrender to her all the same. She was captivating — Kylo wasn’t sure how to act around her.

“I’m not sure,” Myssa whispered, eyelashes fluttering, “But I know it won’t be a monster.” With that, her other hand rose to the other side of his helmet, fingers sliding along until they found their purchase against two buttons. With a click and a hiss, the front would slip out and lift up, effectively loosening it for easier pulling.

Myssa pulled the helmet from him.

She was met with the boyish, handsome face of Kylo Ren. He was pale in complexion, with angular features and a strong nose and jaw. His lips were fuller, soft … None of him looked horrifying or rough. Wavy, black hair had come to rest above his shoulders, disheveled from being trapped within the helmet. Sweet, brown eyes had met her own blue ones. 

Kylo had actually gulped, albeit subtly, standing up straight as he towered over her. His heart thrummed wildly within his chest, and he noticed the way she’d gripped that helmet a little tighter. “Are you afraid?” He asked, his tone a little softer without the interference of the voice modulator. 

Myssa shook her head. “No.” In fact, she found him attractive. He was young — younger than she possibly imagined him to be. There were no scars or garish features. He was just a man. “Not at all.” She whispered. She was afraid when he raised his voice at her before, but Kylo Ren was never frightening. Just a mystery.

A mystery she now knew more about than anyone else. 

“Why?” Kylo asked her, eyes searching her visage for answers. Seeing her now, he’d realized that she was beautiful. Certainly the opposite of her brother, Myssa was compassionate and just, whereas Armitage was venomous and cruel. His curiosity of her began to swell.

“You are just like me,” Myssa didn’t know what to say, yet she could tell he was being awfully perceptive of her. “You are human. You have feelings like I do,” She hesitated, glancing down at the mask. “You struggle like I do.” 

Kylo’s jaw tensed slightly, and he stood there, almost as still as a statue. “I’m not like you.” He murmured, dark brows furrowing together. “I’m not good, Myssa.” The utterance of her name alone made her tremble, a shudder rolling down her spine. It was one of the few times he’d truly addressed her by name, but the first time he’d done so like this. 

Myssa looked confused, almost bewildered by what he told her. Once again, she cast her gaze down to the helmet clutched between a hand and arm. Was it this mask that made him feel bad? The facade? She had so many different questions, so many things to ask him.

Kylo felt as if he could trust her with all of his secrets, all of his doubts, yet there was some mental barrier preventing him from it. He knew she wouldn’t tell another soul about this. This was a rare instance in time where he didn’t feel like a monster.

“I don’t believe that.” She murmured, and Kylo had looked away from her, feeling his cheeks burn. She believed in him, in this human being beneath the mask. He’d never known someone so willing to tell him that he was good, and those that used to were far within the past.

He didn’t know how to respond to her. It was as if she’d stopped him within his tracks. Instead, he moved to tug the helmet out of her arms in an attempt to put it back on. He’d gone too long without it.

“No,” Myssa whispered. “Please, just let me see you.” It was a breathy plea, one that Kylo found to be genuine, surprising. His lips parted slightly as if he planned to say something, yet he remained silent, shaky breath emerging from his mouth instead.

“Why?” Kylo couldn’t stop bombarding her with that one simple question. This time, he was insistent on knowing her reasoning. It baffled him in so many ways. He was lost — this was so entirely new to him.

“It makes me happy,” Myssa uttered, a rosy pallor rising to her cheeks. She almost bit back her next comment, yet it slipped from her mouth anyways. “You’re handsome.” She wanted to touch him so terribly, let her fingertips trace near his lips, his nose. Anything. 

Kylo felt himself reeling, unable to formulate a swift answer for that. Instead, he felt his composure waver, breath hitching within his throat yet again as he reached for her face, this time. He was hesitant, afraid of doing anything to her. 

Leather-clad digits brushed tenderly across her cheek, sweeping aside a lock of red hair. He took the helmet from her this time, yet made no move to put it on. Instead, he’d hold it within one arm, motioning for her to come.

“Follow me.” 

She moved without hesitation, trailing after him. Kylo kept his helmet removed — his own personal wing of the vessel was for him and him alone. No cameras, droids, no Stormtroopers. It was just Myssa and the fearsome Kylo Ren, alone together.

His hand slid along a panel against the wall, next to a bulky door. It slid open with a soft click and hiss. Myssa followed closely behind him now, and as both of them entered the room, the door would close. 

These chambers were smaller than she’d pictured them to be, simple with a similar palette as most rooms did aboard the Finalizer. Everything was dark, save for a large window to the far left, which offered a view of space. Against the opposite wall, there was a simple bed, seemingly unkempt. The wall next to it was cracked, as if he’d done something to it. 

That familiar Lightsaber he wielded was on the sleek, black table next to his bed. Kylo placed his helmet down beside it, opting to indulge her, for now. What did he have to hide in here? Not very much.

He could hear Myssa’s teeth chattering softly, and something struck a chord within him. Kylo gingerly picked up that massive, woven black cloak he’d worn so often, and he turned to her. “Sit,” Brown eyes watched her carefully, and Myssa obeyed him, sitting down upon the edge of his bed, near the pillows.

Draping his cloak around her, Kylo took a seat opposite to her, keeping a comfortable distance. He watched as she huddled inside of the garment, nearly drowning within the fabric. He was massive compared to her, though she seemed cozy enough, swaddled within his cloak. 

“Thank you.” She’d smile at him, such a gesture making Kylo shudder just a little bit. Her gaze was affectionate, understanding — she never ceased to confuse him. Why did she feel this way about him? Tried to understand him? Kylo couldn’t see her motives. 

“Why do you do that?” He uttered, an attempt at being … Soft spoken. Kylo knew that his enraged approach wasn’t a route to take with her. She didn’t deserve it, anyways. He knew the hatred she received from her brother, and Kylo did not want to be a part of that.

“Do what?” Myssa asked, albeit quizzically. A pale hand lifted to tuck away auburn hair behind her ear before she’d go back to gently kneading her fingers into his cloak. She’d realized how large he was from this garment alone. It completely covered her.

“This,” Kylo struggled, grasping at an explanation that made sense. He became frustrated, hand gripping the edge of the bed very tightly. “You show compassion towards me.” Perhaps that was a better phrase. He wanted to hear her side.

“Is it wrong to show you compassion?” Myssa uttered, tilting her head to one side. “You are anguished. I can see it now, in the way you move, the way you talk.” She sighed. “I suppose I want to understand you.” She admitted, sinking deeper into his cloak. “I want to know who you are, beneath the mask.”

Anguished. What did she know of it? 

Kylo looked surprised, gaze drifting from the ground to meet her eyes. They were as blue as the sea, gentle and tender. She had kind eyes, but they were also sad. Sad for him? Sad for herself? He wasn’t sure what caused it, but they were beautiful nonetheless. His breath hitched within his throat. He didn’t know how to respond. 

“It isn’t wrong.” Kylo grumbled, scanning her features before gently shaking his head. “I am just …” He sighed, and once again, struggled for the right words. He looked mildly conflicted, though it promptly faded. “Not used to it.” He finished, brows furrowing together. 

“You aren’t alone, Kylo.” Myssa’s sweet, soothing voice had sounded out once again. Her hand reached for his, the one poised against the edge. Though he still wore his leather gloves, it was almost a burning sensation he felt when her hand rested over his.

Hesitantly, almost as if any movement would somehow hurt her, his hand had turned slightly, just enough for him to reciprocate the action. Leather-clad fingers tensed around her small hand, the pressure light. He was being cautious. 

“ … Ben.” His voice was barely above a whisper. He hadn’t heard that name in such a long time, and it almost pained him to say it. He could trust her, though. He could trust Myssa. “And neither are you.” He murmured, eyes able to meet hers without wavering.

“Ben,” Myssa repeated, eyelashes fluttering softly. His real name, she thought. This was the first sign of trust he’d given her, aside from when she removed his helmet. Slowly but surely, she felt far more comfortable than before. “Thank you.” She whispered.

A silence lingered between them, something palpable, almost electrifying. Myssa hadn’t surrendered his cloak just yet. Ben looked a little hesitant, unable to tell what she planned on doing next. He only just realized that he was still holding her hand, and in subtle embarrassment, he released her from his grip.

Ben had stood up so suddenly, moving away from the bed and toward that great window, staring out into the black, starry depths of space. “I shouldn’t,” He spoke out, clear yet uncertain of himself. “I shouldn’t feel this way.” He uttered, head hanging slightly.

Myssa followed him, draped within his cloak as she stood a foot behind him, auburn hair like a wreath of fire against the dark fabric that surrounded her. Idly chewing upon her lower lip, she approached him, hand resting near his elbow. 

She felt him tense slightly underneath her touch, gaze shifting to stare intently at her. “I don’t understand,” Myssa’s voice was soft, soothing in an attempt to know what he meant. 

“You make me confused,” Ben finally turned to face her, expression drawn up into one of contemplation and frustration. “Conflicted.” He murmured, dark brows drawing together once more. Yet, he found himself leaning closer, their height differences not interfering with the gravity of that moment. “Alive.” He breathed, nearly rendered speechless. 

Myssa could feel his warm breath against her cheeks, see his brown hues stare unwaveringly at her. She had never been caught within a moment quite like this before, and the silence was deafening. She could hear him breathe, her own breath — there was enough tension present that it could’ve been sliced with a knife. 

The closer they’d come together, the more she could feel warmth rolling from him in waves. Their lips were a mere breath apart, and Ben did not seem to stop himself or jerk away. Myssa was afraid that he would. She lifted her hand, fingertips grazing against his cheek. He shivered at her touch, lips parted slightly.

“Ben,” Myssa’s mere utterance of his name had caused his head to swim, and before either of them could properly pull away, their mouths had met in a gentle entanglement. One might’ve expected him to be domineering, rough — Ben was the opposite. He was rarely touched, his repression usually smothered by the guidance of Snoke or his grandfather.

Yet, he felt it now more than ever. That void within his heart, yearning with a need to be filled. He had shuddered when they kissed, the gesture entirely foreign to him. Ben didn’t know what to do with his hands. Myssa’s soft palms had rest on either side of his visage, the pads of her thumbs tenderly stroking near his nose.

Ben’s kiss was tender, delicate — he wanted to treat her with the gentleness that she deserved. He imagined she’d endured much, and it was the least he could do. His hands finally found themselves wandering underneath his cloak, pressing lightly into her hips. He held her there, hunched because of his height, yet charmed by her lips.

When she finally pulled away, he looked mildly sheepish, though there was a hint of confusion, a sense of not knowing what to do. Her fingertips still traced across his skin, feeling along his cheekbones, the bridge of his nose, and gingerly moved along his lips. Ben had felt comforted by her embrace, something he yearned to experience again, deep down inside. It was a moment that he’d never forget — the scarlet blush within her cheeks, blue eyes never leaving his own. 

And there it was, Ben felt the corners of his mouth twitch, threatening to tug into a smile. He didn’t, but the hint of it remained, new and endearing. She’d almost compelled him to smile, though Ben withheld it, for now. Myssa smiled at him a moment afterward. Dazzling, understanding, sincere. His large palms had still nestled themselves against her waist, and he contemplated his next choice carefully. 

It was as if she’d read his mind. Both of them moved back in, lips meeting for the second time. Myssa wasn’t so frightened of showing passion this time around, eyes fluttering shut as Ben’s hold became snug upon her. One of her hands shifted from his face to hair, trailing her fingertips through those wavy, black tresses. A shiver coursed down the length of her spine, able to feel the slight trembling of his mouth against hers.

She hadn’t been kissed in so long. She hadn’t been kissed in the way he kissed her … Soft and careful, as if he’d break her. Myssa could feel his strong hands drawing her closer, nearly pressed against his own frame. The moment lasted for what seemed like an eternity, until they parted again. Myssa felt warmth creep into her cheeks, a rosy blush settling across her visage. Once more, she caressed her thumb across Ben’s jaw, soaking in his appearance as if it were the last time she’d see his face.

“Myssa,” Ben’s voice had become hushed, as if he were sharing a secret. A soft exhale escaped him, lips still hanging agape. He still behaved as if this were all a surprise, something he wasn’t accustomed to. “It’s late.” He murmured, not wanting to risk her getting caught slipping out of his corridor. Ben wished she could’ve stayed, but with how fresh this all seemed, it was best if some lines were left uncrossed in the meantime. 

A brief flicker of disappointment crossed her features, though it disappeared as swiftly as it came. Myssa understood that this was as forbidden as could be. She didn’t want to risk endangering Ben, most of all. She kissed along his jaw, enjoying his presence as much as she could before moving away. “Okay,” She whispered, smiling once more. She removed his cloak from her shoulders, handing it back to him.

“Come back,” Ben interjected, lips pressing into a thin line. “Tomorrow.” He murmured, nearly breathless with the look she’d given him. It was sweet, comforting - a look that he simply did not deserve. He felt a little weak underneath her kind eyes, and he’d almost contemplated looking away. 

“Of course.” Myssa gently squeezed his hand, nibbling along her lower lip. Tugging her robe around her form, she felt Ben reciprocate the soft squeeze, promptly leading her toward the doors they’d come in through. He didn’t bother putting his helmet back on -- not now. Walking her up to the end of his corridor, he knew that this was where he’d halt. 

They stood in silence together for a short while, and before he knew it, her arms were around him for an embrace. Ben seemed still, though as seconds ticked by, he warmed up to it. Drawing a leather-clad palm across her hair, he looked down to her. “Goodnight, Myssa.” He uttered, expression having changed from one of confusion, to one of gentleness. It bordered along passive, if it weren’t for his eyes. 

“Goodnight, Ben.” Once more, she’d smile, relinquishing him from her hold. He watched her auburn tresses disappear beyond the armored doors, and as soon as she was out of sight, he’d catch his breath, staring toward the ground. 

‘It’s best you do not know.’

And now, she did.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Myssa is my original character, created back in 2015. Second part of this oneshot series will have smut, so you've been pre-warned. I plan on writing more of them in the near future! <3


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